


Little Alice Dewhurst

by ParadoxRose



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alice in Wonderland References, F/M, My dictionary really had a workout, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxRose/pseuds/ParadoxRose
Summary: A new criminal has appeared, a criminal named Crossword who uses the very same puzzles as her gimmick. Naturally, this annoys Riddler, so he kidnaps her and takes her to his 'associates' to decide what to do with her.





	1. Day Three

“Let me go!” Crossword exclaimed. Her voice sounded strong, but she was terrified. The Riddler didn’t stop until the door was a-four-letter-word-for-closed, and the room was momentarily left in darkness. When the lights flickered on, Crossword blinked before seeing a five-letter-word-for-big table with multiple chairs, decorated with silverware and teapots. It looked like a tea party.

“Is this her?”

Crossword jumped with a short cry as the infamous Scarecrow appeared out of the now limited darkness, his ten-letter-word-for-logical eyes scanning over her.

“Obviously.” Riddler snapped, glaring at Crossword.

“Please, let me go.” Crossword pleaded, her voice now sounding more like a six-letter-word-meaning-a-baby-cat. Scarecrow glanced at her again, before a third voice spoke.

“March Hare? Caterpillar?”

Crossword and the other two nine-letter-word-for-felons turned to see the equally infamous Jervis Tetch, alias The Mad Hatter. Alias, late Middle English, from the Latin meaning ‘at another time’ or ‘otherwise’. Crossword shook her head to try and clear it. She was so panicked she was relapsing to word origins again.

“Who is this?” Hatter asked, stepping seven-letter-word-for-to Crossword. Crossword could feel the Riddler’s grip tighten on her arm, which she was only six-letter-word-for-hardly aware he still had a hold of.

“She’s the new arrival, Jervis.” The Riddler explained, “The one who doesn’t respect her superiors.” Respect, late Middle English, from the Latin _respectus_ , from the verb _respicere_ meaning ‘look back at’ or ‘regard’. Crossword held her free hand to her head, trying to stop herself. Next thing she would be speaking in crossword clues again.

“So,” The Riddler continued, looking at the Scarecrow and Mad Hatter, “Oblivion, or Wonderland?” The spark of ten-letter-word-for-exhilaration in both Scarecrow and the Hatter’s eyes added to Crossword’s six-letter-word-for-horror, and she once again struggled to pull her arm free.

“Mr Riddler please have a-five-letter-word-for-clemency.” Crossword begged, trying not to three-letter-word-for-sob. She needed more medication, but the last of it had she had four-letter-word-for-utilised three days ago. By now Crossword was sweating so nine-letter-word-for-abundantly her ski-mask-like mask was clinging to her face.

“I understand the name now.” The Scarecrow remarked, once again looking at Crossword, “You have an obsession that drives you to speak like the puzzle you are named after. Tell me, what is the definition of ‘indefinitely’?” Crossword, eyes now wet with tears, clamped her free hand over her mouth, fighting against the urge, the _need_.

“Indefinitely, an adverb.” Crossword blurted, “Meaning ‘for an unlimited or unspecified period of time’, or as a submodifier meaning ‘to an unlimited or unspecified degree or extent’!”

“And an obsession with the English language, it seems.” The Scarecrow nodded thoughtfully, then looked at the Hatter, “I think _I_ would prefer this subject, Jervis.” Crossword’s eyes widened and she shrank back. Shrink, Old English of Germanic origin, related to the Swedish _skrynka_ meaning ‘to wrinkle’. This only seemed to nine-letter-word-for-hearten the Scarecrow, and his four-letter-word-for-azure eyes bored through her soul again.

“Take off the mask.” Scarecrow instructed, voice devoid of any emotion. Devoid, late Middle English, from the Old French _devoidier_. Emotion, originating mid sixteenth century, from the French…

Crossword swayed slightly, cutting off her own train of thought. So many words going through her four-letter-word-for-brain, crossing her vision.

“A…” Crossword stammered, head drooping slightly, “A two-letter-word-meaning-negative.” The Scarecrow frowned, and the Riddler and the Hatter only seemed to five-letter-word-for-view as the ‘master of fear’ did his work.

“Take off the mask, or I will have to do it for you.” Scarecrow repeated, “And that may be quite painful.” Crossword felt Riddler’s hold six-letter-word-for-slacken, allowing her the means to remove her four-letter-word-for-disguise. Crossword glanced between the Riddler and the Scarecrow before nine-letter-word-for-timidly reaching up to her mask. Her fingerless-gloved hands took hold of the back of her mask, near the bottom of her neck, and she six-letter-word-for-unhurriedly pulled it off to reveal her short, wavy blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Wendy, not Crossword, stared down at the floor, too six-letter-word-for-terrified to look at her captors. Captor, from the Latin _capt-_ meaning ‘seized’ or ‘taken’, from the verb _capere_. She expected more words, maybe even an injection of the fear toxin she had heard so much about. But after a six-letter-word-for-instant there was nothing but silence, and Wendy cautiously lifted her head. The attention seemed to have five-letter-word-for-advanced from her, to the Mad Hatter. He in turn was looking at Wendy, eyes slightly widened.

“Alice?” The one word the Hatter spoke was barely a seven-letter-word-for-murmur.

“Jervis, no.” The Riddler said, he and the Scarecrow quickly holding the Hatter almost as if to hold him back.

“You know this is pointless.” The Scarecrow added, “You know she isn’t Alice.” Wendy took a step back, eight-letter-word-for-bewildered. Her name was Wendy, not Alice.

“B-b-but she looks like Alice!” The Hatter spluttered, now trying to move forward. All it took was for the Hatter to take another step and Wendy pulled the mask back over her face and bolted for the door. Bolt, Middle English, from sense one of the word expressing the sense ‘fly like an arrow’. Crossword could hear a quick scuffle behind her as she pulled at the doorknob, before the scuffle five-letter-word-for-finished and Crossword whipped around to see what had happened. The Hatter stood, smiling, with the Riddler and the Scarecrow standing behind him, blank-faced and unmoving. Behind their ears was a card reading ten over six.

“Alice, you did try to hide didn’t you.” The Hatter remarked, slowly walking  towards Crossword, “But you don’t need to hide, now that I’ve saved you from March Hare and the Caterpillar.” Crossword backed away until her back was against the door, once again six-letter-word-for-scared as the Hatter continued towards her. Her, from the Old English _hire_.

“Now Alice, please stop hiding.” The Hatter’s face flickered with different emotions, and when she understood what he meant Crossword once again nervously removed her mask. The Hatter’s smile widened in what she seven-letter-word-for-reckoned was approval.

“Thank you.” The Hatter said before he noticed her welling tears, “Oh Alice, don’t cry.” He reached out to brush away the tears, but as soon as his gloved hand touched her face Wendy flinched, pulling her head away.

“No…” The words in Wendy’s head were joined by memories as she backed away, holding herself and shaking her head, “A-four-letter-word-for-history, a seven-letter-word-for-misconduct…”

“Misconduct?” The Hatter questioned, “Alice, I wouldn’t hurt you.” Wendy shook her head again, curling into a ball as she cried.

“A-seven-letter-word-for-past…” Wendy sobbed, “And a…a-four-letter word…a-four-letter-word-for-molesting…” Wendy continued to cry, back against the wall and forehead on her knees as the Hatter’s eyes widened again. Molesting…someone would dare rape his poor Alice? They would pay dearly. But he couldn’t bear to see his Alice cry, so he simply sat down beside her and hugged her tightly. Wendy was already too seven-letter-word-for-faraway to even notice the Hatter, but she didn’t think she had the strength to push him away anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read all the way here, then thank you! Trust me, the future chapters aren't crammed with so many dictionary excerpts. I dialed it back a bit after re-reading this chapter.


	2. Hide and Seek

“Jervis how could you?!”

Jervis held his hat in his hands, gripping the brim tightly as he looked at the ground almost sheepishly. Scarecrow and Riddler stood before him, chastising him for taking control of their minds.

“She _deserves_ to be taught a lesson!” Riddler continued, “ _I_ am the master of puzzles, not that little-“

“I’ve waited too long for Alice!” Jervis exclaimed angrily, then pulled his hat back on before continuing, “I waited and waited and waited, and I won’t lose her again!” Riddler fell silent, but Jonathan frowned.

“If you ever do something like that again-“ He threatened, but was cut off by a noise in the next room. Riddler and Scarecrow were almost bowled over by Tetch as he pushed past them, running to see what had happened. He looked around, but Alice had moved from the corner where she had been crying. So where was she?

“Well…” Riddler remarked, suppressing a smirk as he stood behind Tetch, “That’s one problem solved.” Hatter’s eyes widened as he looked around again, more frantically than before. She had run away? Oh no, oh no no no no no…

~O~

Crossword stayed as five-letter-word-for-silent as possible as she stayed on her hands and knees under the table. She hoped she was six-letter-word-for-concealed enough as she saw Hatter’s legs move frantically all around the room.

“Oh no oh no oh no, the caucus race begins again!” Hatter four-letter-word-for-spoke woefully, and Crossword crouched down fearfully as Riddler’s legs six-letter-word-for-moved over to Hatter.

“Jervis, she’s gone.”

Crossword listened as Jervis seven-letter-word-for-halted, then after a moment he sighed.

“March Hare…Caterpillar…the tea party has finished. Please leave.” His voice was a-five-letter-word-for-quiet, and after a few minutes of silence she heard Scarecrow four-letter-word-for-exhale. Without another word, Scarecrow and Riddler left, and Crossword heard Hatter sigh again.

“If everybody minded their own business, the world would go round a deal faster than it does.”

Crossword jumped and had to cover her mouth with her hand to four-letter-word-for-stifle a shriek as a teapot smashed against the wall, and Hatter slumped into a seat at the table. Crossword’s breath caught in her throat; his legs were only inches away from her face. Crossword nine-letter-word-for-withdrew, hoping to remain silent as she backed away. Her main nine-letter-word-for-goal now was to escape. Crossword held a hand to her head again for a moment. And a-three-letter-word-for-obtain more medication. But first, Mad Hatter would have to leave. Crossword barely breathed as she waited.

“Oh Alice, where could you be? I never wanted to hurt you, but you kept crying and crying. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a great girl like you to go on crying that way!’ Oh, Alice…”

Crossword slowly and nine-letter-word-for-cautiously pulled her mask off, almost unable to breathe through the six-letter-word-for-material. She wondered how long Hatter would four-letter-word-for-remain sitting in his chair eight-letter-word-for-talking to himself, and she considered running for the door. She probably wouldn’t make it. Crossword heard a six-letter-word-for-fluid being poured, and she almost frowned. Was he serving himself tea? God she would never leave. She could already feel her legs turning into jelly.

She just had to four-letter-word-for-stay, and eventually the Mad Hatter would leave and she would be able to escape.


	3. Found

_She backed up against a wall, eyes wide in fright. Everything was dark around her, but she could see the almost hungry look in his eyes as he approached her. She let out a shriek as he pinned her shoulders to the wall, and she could feel his breath on her face. Her eyes were wet with tears, and though she tried to struggle she couldn’t stop him as his hands moved downwards. As they did, she heard another voice echo in her ears._

_“Miss Dewhurst, I’m afraid you’re unwell…”_

Wendy’s eyes snapped open as she woke from her nightmare. When had she fallen asleep? It seemed like she had waited hours crouched under the table…

Wendy realised that she was lying on the floor, her head in someone’s lap and her hair being gently stroked out of her face. She looked up, and Mad Hatter’s smiling face looked down at her. With a cry she sat up and pushed him away, looking both horrified and frightened.

“I found you Alice.” Mad Hatter told her, still smiling, “I thought I had lost you, but you stayed. You _must_ be Alice.” Wendy’s eyes widened and she ran for the door, pulling at the doorknob once again.

“I locked it.”

Wendy glanced at Hatter and felt like she was about to cry again when she realised something.

“I’m…I’m talking.” Wendy muttered, fear changing to confusion, “I’m talking normally.”

“It must be the tea.” Jervis remarked fairly casually, gesturing to the table, “I gave you some while you were sleeping, you know. It’s special tea, but I’m afraid it won’t last long…” Wendy knew he was right. Whatever he gave her, she could already feel starting to four-letter-word-for-dim…

Wendy groaned and held a hand to her head, expression changing to sadness. She was back to being… _this_ …

“Mr Hatter, please, don’t kill me.” Wendy looked at Jervis, pleading, “I just want to go home.” Jervis tilted his head to the side slightly, six-letter-word-for-walking towards Wendy.

“Oh my dear Alice, please don’t cry.” Jervis said sadly, “We’ll both drown if you cry like that again!”

“Please!” Wendy begged, but Jervis just continued to walk up to her. She would have six-letter-word-for-recoiled if she weren’t already almost against the door.

“Now Alice, come sit down.” Jervis took her hand, but Wendy quickly snatched it away. Jervis four-letter-word-for-presented an apologetic and maybe even embarrassed look.

“Oh dear, I would forget my head if it weren’t attached!” Jervis exclaimed, “Though the queen just may fix that.” He winked at Wendy before walking back over to the table, even seven-letter-word-for-tugging out a chair for Wendy like a gentleman.

“Would you like some more tea?”

Wendy stayed by the door, looking at Jervis fearfully. She didn’t four-letter-word-for-stir, wanting to escape rather than indulge this criminal’s delusions. Yes, she was a-four-letter-word-for-too a criminal, but a different kind of criminal. Sort of.

“Alice, sit down and have some tea.” Hatter frowned, the friendly tone gone from his voice. Wendy nine-letter-word-for-timidly walked quickly over to the table, frightened of what he may do to her if she refused. She sat down in the seat and Hatter smiled before quickly taking a new teapot and filling two cups on saucers with tea. The nine-letter-word-for-smashed teapot had been pink, while this one was a pale green with a wavy yellow line near the top.

“T-thank you.” Wendy muttered as she was given one of the cups, “Is this…the seven-letter-word-for-exceptional tea?”

“No.” Hatter replied, sitting across from her before giving a small smile, “There wasn’t much left, Alice.” Wendy’s face fell in a momentary lapse of fear. She had five-letter-word-for-wished that there was more of whatever the Hatter had given her, if only so she could be normal for a few more minutes. Noticing Wendy’s disappointment, Hatter returned his own cup to its saucer, kindness returning to his eyes along with sympathy.

“Oh Alice, don’t be sad.” Hatter said, then lifted the cup to his lips, “I absolutely hate seeing you all mimsy…” Wendy felt her finger twitch. Mimsy? What did that mean? She had heard the four-letter-word-for-term before, but she didn’t know the definition, and that irritated her like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

“Mimsy?” Wendy repeated, almost inaudibly, as she looked down towards the ground. The word sounded odd, foreign…wrong.

“Yes Alice, mimsy.” Hatter replied, then looked at Wendy, “Don’t you know what that means?” Wendy’s whole hand twitched, and she felt a tight feeling in her five-letter-word-for-torso.

_“Wendy, do you know what this word means?”_

_“No.” The nine-year-old replied with wide, innocent eyes._

_“Sweetheart, I’m not going to tell you right away. Try and guess.”_

“No.” Wendy snapped, still looking down, “I _don’t_ know what it means.” She slowly rose from her seat, and Hatter looked at her with slightly worried confusion.

“I want to go home.” Wendy five-letter-word-for-said vacantly, tears stinging her eyes. She noticed her mask under the table, and she slowly picked it up, seven-letter-word-for-gazing at it before stepping away from the table.

“Alice, wait-“ Mad Hatter quickly jumped to his feet, dropping his cup as he hurried to stand in front of Wendy.

“I want to go home.” Wendy repeated, looking at him pleadingly, “Please.” She tried to move past him but Hatter grabbed her arm, his kindness clearly waning.

“Don’t touch me!” Wendy tore her arm out of his grasp, holding back tears, “I _don’t_ know what it means!” She ran for the door, and as she seven-letter-word-for-turned the doorknob she felt something suddenly being tucked behind her ear.

“I’m sorry Alice…”

Wendy’s mind felt fuzzy for a moment before everything went dark.

_“Mrs Dewhurst, I’m afraid I have some bad news…”_


	4. Day Four

_Mimsy…_

It was her only thought.

_Mimsy…_

It was all she could see.

_Mimsy…_

Circling her mind.

_Mimsy…_

Wendy blinked, filled with surprise and confusion. What had an-eight-letter-word-for-occurred? The last thing she could eight-letter-word-for-recall was trying to escape, then everything had just…gone dark. Wendy frowned before her eyes widened. Mind control. The Mad Hatter must have brainwashed her, like she had heard about on the four-letter-word-for-bulletin. But then, how long had she been a mindless puppet? Wendy suddenly involuntarily and violently shuddered. Four days. Four days since her last dose of medication. Which meant she had been a six-letter-word-for-pawn for a day. Wendy bit her lip before looking down, and realising two things. First, she was sitting in a chair. Six-letter-word-for-secondly, she was not wearing her black-and-white costume. She was wearing a blue dress, with a white apron and black shoes. An Alice costume. Wendy’s eyes widened again before she five-letter-word-for-attempted to stand.

“Alice! You’re awake!”

Wendy froze, lifting her head to see The Mad Hatter sitting at the other end of the table. He had a five-letter-word-for-grin on his face, and he looked at Wendy while stirring his tea.

_Mimsy…_

Wendy’s hand twitched, but she silently sat back down in her chair.

“I-I want to go home.”

“But Alice, you are home!” Hatter replied happily, before looking down at his cup, “I’m dreadfully sorry for having to card you, by the way.” Wendy looked down at the six-letter-word-for-floor.

_Mimsy…_

“But you left me no choice.” Hatter continued, unaware of Wendy’s thought, “With just one word you ran for the door as if chasing the White Rabbit!”

“Mimsy.” Wendy muttered, and Hatter nodded thoughtfully. Suddenly realising something as she six-letter-word-for-gazed down at her black shoes, Wendy felt the colour drain from her face. Had he stripped her? Did he remove her clothes to change her into this dress?

“D-did you…” Wendy stammered, panic gripping her insides, “…four-letter-word-for-undress me?”

“No!” Hatter replied quickly, shaking his head, “I went to another room after telling you to change! Alice, I would never do that to you! Would not, _could not_ , do that to you!” Why would his Alice think he would do something so low? If not a Hatter than he was certainly a gentleman, and though he was not above carding her if needed, he would not, could not, take advantage of her like that. _Especially_ since she had been…he shuddered at the thought.

“You swear?” Wendy asked with a frown, and when Hatter nodded so four-letter-word-for-quick she thought his hat would fall off, she allowed herself to relax slightly. But only slightly.

“So Alice, _did_ you see the White Rabbit?” Hatter smiled again, sipping his tea. Wendy glanced at him before six-letter-word-for-inaudibly shaking her head.

_Mimsy…_

“No, Mr Hatter.”

_Mimsy…_

“No?” Hatter asked with confusion, then gave a short chuckle, “Surely the word ‘mimsy’ didn’t upset you?” Wendy glanced at The Hatter again, then sighed. Lewis Carroll brought her into this mess, Lewis Carroll would get her out of it.

“’A-Alice felt dreadfully puzzled.’” Wendy stammered, trying not to speak any crossword clues, “’The Hatter’s remark seemed to her to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. ‘I don’t quite understand you,’ she said, as politely as she could.’” Thank god for her eidetic memory.

Mad Hatter blinked, overjoyed that Alice could quote his beloved Carroll, but surprised that she could. Of course she could, she was Alice!

“’You seem very clever at explaining words, Sir,’ said Alice.’” Jervis replied, understanding what his Alice was saying. He readjusted himself in his chair, almost sitting cross-legged. He returned his cup to its saucer before clearing his throat.

“’Well, then, ‘mimsy’ is ‘flimsy and miserable’.” Jervis explained, then added, “’You see it’s like a portmanteau, there are two meanings packed up into one word.’” Wendy couldn’t hide the four-letter-word-for-utter relief that washed over her. She relaxed in her chair, a smile on her face as if a heavy stone had just been removed from on top of her.

“Thank you.” Wendy said, and Jervis smiled again, this time with loving joy.

“’And thank you _very_ much for asking,’ said Tweedledum.’”

Wendy looked at Jervis before she shuddered again, her smile fading to a grimace. Wendy sagged in her seat, seven-letter-word-for-pressing her hand to her head.

“Alice?” Jervis asked, looking at Wendy with concern, “Are you alright?” Wendy only shook her head. Four days. The doctors had monitored the progress of her condition when left untreated. Two days, and she would speak in crossword clues. A week, and she would become even worse. After two full weeks…the doctors had had no choice but to give her medication. There were three days left until the week marker.

“Mr Hatter.” Wendy began quietly, “When may I a-five-letter-word-for-depart?”

“Leave?” Jervis asked, “Now why would you want to do that?”

“B-because…” Wendy replied nervously, “I want to go home, and I need-“

“Oh stop being silly Alice.” Hatter interrupted her, lifting his cup again, “You _are_ home, remember?” Wendy six-letter-word-for-raised her head to look at Hatter before her face fell, and she rose from her chair.

“Please. I have to leave!” Wendy pleaded, “I’m a-six-letter-word-for-ill.” Hatter stared at Wendy for a moment, then chuckled as he sipped his tea.

“We’re all mad here, Alice.” He replied. Wendy’s face fell before she sank back into her chair, holding her head in her hands.

~O~

“Unbelievable!”

Edward paced back and forth across the room, having what Jonathan called one of his ‘tantrums’. Jonathan himself was sitting in an armchair, reading, and paying minimal attention to Edward’s huffing.

“I brang that _ingrate_ to Tetch’s hideout because I wanted her gone, and I wanted her to suffer!” Edward continued, fists clenched, “I’m not a competitive man-“ Jonathan snorted, and Edward scowled before continuing.

“But I was here first! The Prince Of Puzzles cannot be upstaged by someone who stumbled across their theme in the morning newspaper!”

“Hatter thinks that she’s Alice.” Jonathan stated matter-of-factually, “Now he’ll protect her as if his life depends on it.” Edward stopped pacing and rubbed his temples in frustration. He had to be rid of her.

“We need to separate her from Tetch.” Edward realised, a plan forming in his mind, “Not only that, but also _show_ Jervis that she isn’t Alice so he won’t protect her!”

“And you have a way of doing this?” Jonathan looked at Edward, and when he didn’t reply Jonathan rolled his eyes and returned to his book.

“Well do _you_ have a plan?” Edward snapped, and Jonathan glanced at him nonchalantly.

“Obviously you have forgotten where we first saw her.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Edward scoffed, “ _I_ found her wandering the streets, muttering crossword clues under her breath!” Jonathan nodded, more to himself than The Riddler. Obviously Nygma had not been paying attention. Crane however had been interested in young Miss Dewhurst as a subject for some time now.

“Then surely you remember her charges. Fraud, breaking and entering…” Jonathan paused to turn the page of his book, “Homicide.”

“ _Unintentional_ homicide.” Edward corrected. He was not an idiot. He had found what little information he could on the girl.

“It still qualifies.” Jonathan closed his book, then lifted his head to Edward with an impassive frown, “If Jervis discovers he’s in danger, he won’t believe that Crossword is his Alice. In The Hatter’s mind, Alice is incapable of doing wrong.” Edward grinned. They had a plan, now they only had to act on it.

“Crossword.” Edward scoffed, “When I find out her real name, I swear I’ll make her _family_ pay!” Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle dryly as he returned to his book. For a genius, Edward could be very ignorant.


	5. Day Five And A Half

It was getting worse. _She_ was getting worse. Her shudders were happening more often, her hands were twitching, she was having headaches that were progressively becoming longer. And she was remembering.

**FLASHBACK**

_There was a loud knock at the door, and Beverly Dewhurst answered it. She was an adult woman with blondish-brown hair tied up in a loose bun, wearing a white blouse and jeans._

_“Craig!” She exclaimed in surprise. She knew Craig Jackson well; he worked with her husband Gregory at the GCPD. Craig was usually a jokester, but instead of the usual smile he had a serious frown on his face._

_“What’s wrong?” Beverly asked, noticing Craig’s expression, “Where’s Greg?” Neither Beverly nor Craig noticed that standing just behind the corner in the hallway near the front door, listening, was Wendy Dewhurst._

_“Bev…” Craig started, now looking saddened as he fiddled with his police officer cap, “Bev, I gotta tell you something. About Greg.” Wendy peered around the corner, watching with wide eyes as her mother’s expression flickered with concern. Craig took a deep breath, then looked Beverly in the eye._

_“Mrs Dewhurst, I’m afraid I have some bad news…”_

_Beverly held her head in her hands as she began to cry, and Wendy moved away from the corner, back against the wall as she held a hand to her chest, tears building in her eyes._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Wendy sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. When she had six-letter-word-for-composed herself, Wendy held a hand to her head against another headache. One day and a half until the week marker. In the time since she had been freed from The Hatter’s control, she had given up on asking to go home. It only leaded to endless rounds of ‘I want to go home’ and ‘You _are_ home Alice!’ until Hatter lost all joy and six-letter-word-for-appeared close to losing his temper. Afraid of what he might do to her, Wendy had stopped. Instead, she had spent the last day and a half nine-letter-word-for-looking for a key that would open the front door. Mad Hatter had to have kept it somewhere, and he seemed oblivious to the fact that Wendy was secretly looking for it. Sometimes he would disappear for hours, then reappear declaring ‘Tea time Alice!’. Wendy was sick of eating bread-and-butter, and six-letter-word-for-repeatedly drinking tea. She wanted to go home, and all she had to do was find the key. Opening a cabinet in the hallway, Wendy frowned. Hats. Four-letter-word-for-yet more hats. As Wendy pulled each hat out one at a time, she muttered to herself under her breath.

“Hat, Old English of Germanic origin, related to the Old Norse meaning ‘hood’.” Finding no key, Wendy sighed before putting all of the hats back, not worried about them being back in the place they had been before. She wouldn’t be able to find anything if she couldn’t five-letter-word-for-contemplate like the Mad Hatter. As Wendy held her hand to her head, she hoped she would never have to.

~O~

He raised the screwdriver to the circuitry chip, fiddling with the attachment unit. He needed it to stay securely behind the subject’s ear, without using a band or a hat. Hatter tried to focus, but he found his thoughts slowly drifting to Alice. He hated leaving her all by her lonesome, especially since she had forgotten that he meant her no harm…

_‘If she couldn’t remember my name, she’d call me ‘Miss!’ as the servants do.’_

…But he did need to make sure that others were as obedient as he wanted them to be. After that, he’d return to his beloved Alice. Jervis couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him as he lifted the screwdriver. Alice would never let him hold her hand, let alone touch her, as long as she still lived with a Mock Turtle in her mind. Always crying, always crying…it broke his heart to see his Alice always crying. But it angered him that some brute, some _Knave_ , had soiled his Alice like that!

_‘The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer day. The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts, and took them quite away!’_

Hatter took a deep breath to calm himself before he grinned mischievously at the card. He could make her forget, save his Alice from her own torment, her own trauma, so she could love him as he loved her, loved her with all his heart and just wanted to see her _smile_ again, smile at _him_ …

He sighed. No, it wasn’t the right thing to do. All he had to do was make Alice see she could trust him, and then she would open up on her own. He would help her, not to forget, but to overcome.

~O~

“Alice!”

Wendy jumped and frantically replaced the lids on all of the teapots. She had thought that with The Hatter’s many tea parties she had been a part of, he might have hidden the key in one of the unused teapots, but still she had found a-seven-letter-word-for-zilch. Hatter walked (almost skipped) into the room with a wide smile, which only seemed to grow as he came to Wendy. His hat was gone, and so was his coat.

“Alice dear, I’m all finished!” He declared.

“Um, okay…” Wendy replied, six-letter-word-for-doubtful of how to respond. She shuddered again, and Hatter’s smile faded to give way to concern. Why did Alice keep shuddering? Perhaps she was cold?

“Alice, I want you to get better.” Hatter began, “I want to help you forget what that awful Knave did to you.” Wendy frowned. Knave? Knave, a noun, meaning a dishonest or unscrupulous man, or in cards meaning a jack.

“I-I don’t understand.” Wendy said quietly, then jerked her hand away as Hatter tried to take her hand. Wait, did he mean…?

“Alice, you don’t have to run from the Queen, afraid of losing your head.” Hatter continued. He had met the Queen of Hearts, and though when Her Majesty wasn’t in Wonderland she acted more like The Jabberwock with her eyes of flame, the King still pardoned those she had ordered executed.

“Mr Hatter, please don’t touch me.” Wendy’s voice only grew only quieter, and she turned away slightly, “That’s my nightmare, not yours.” Hatter looked at Wendy with sympathy before stepping in front of her, and he held out his hand.

“I only want to help.” Jervis replied, and Wendy glanced between him and his hand. After a moment, she slowly lifted her hand.

_“Oh come on doll, what’s the matter?”_

Wendy’s eyes grew wide and she an-eight-letter-word-meaning-jumped-back, shaking her head.

“No…no no no…” Wendy repeated the word over and over, cowering with her hands against her head. She could still feel his breath, his _hands_ …

Wendy hid her head in her hands as she felt herself begin to cry again, before she a-seven-letter-word-for-observed Jervis kneeling in front of her.

“He can’t get you here.” Jervis said gently, “The Knave can’t reach you here.” Wendy sniffed, looking through her fingers at Jervis. He gave a small smile to reassure her.

“Don’t cry, dear.” Jervis told her, still gentle, and Wendy took her hands away from her face. He wasn’t a-seven-letter-word-for-reciting Lewis Carroll? That was…odd. She couldn’t even see the madness in his eyes. Wendy slowly uncurled from a ball, still looking at Tetch, and his smile widened before he held out his hand again. Wendy only sat there, unmoving, for a few moments, looking nervously at Tetch’s hand.

“Just put your hand on top of mine.” Jervis offered reassuringly, “Like a really slow high five.” Wendy tried not to smile at that, and after a six-letter-word-for-minute she slowly raised her hand again. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she gingerly placed her hand on top of Jervis’s. He didn’t grab her, didn’t pull her to her feet, he did nothing but smile. Wendy looked at her hand, then at Jervis, who in turn was looking at her with kind patience. After a moment, Wendy gave the tiniest of smiles, and Jervis beamed. He took his hand away slowly as if trying not to frighten a young deer before rising to his feet.

“I think I need some tea.” Jervis remarked, then looked at Wendy, “Would you like some tea?”

“Uh no, thank you.” Wendy replied quietly, still sitting on the floor. Jervis nodded before walking away, and once he was far enough he allowed his smile to grow to a grin. Once Alice trusted him, she would open up to him on her own.


	6. One Week

The small window allowed a slight trickle of sunlight into Jervis’s room as he woke. It was actually quite pleasant, compared to the dark and gloomy skies Gotham often provided. He got dressed in a simple green vest over a white shirt with light blue trousers, then took his hat from where it sat on the small table beside his bed. He wouldn’t be caught without it, but he was happy to just be Jervis Tetch for today. He quietened his footsteps as he came to the room holding the always ready tea party. He didn’t want to wake-

Jervis stopped, barely through the doorway. She was gone. _Again_.

Jervis’s face fell with worry as he stiffly walked forward, eyes locked on the empty chair. For the past few days (How long had it been exactly?) she had slept in the chair at the head of the table across from where _he_ usually sat. The chairs were comfortable, yes, but not for sleeping. She was probably afraid of what she might find if she tried to explore, but he would let her sleep on the sofa at least. Then again, if she didn’t want to then he wouldn’t force her to anything against her will.

Well…

Nothing involving sleeping, at least.

“Alice?” Jervis called, but his dread softened his voice. A groan suddenly filled the air, and Jervis whirled around before frowning slightly in confusion. Kneeling down, he looked under the table and his eyes widened in surprise. She was curled in a tight ball under the table, back towards him, head almost between her knees and her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“Alice?!” Jervis exclaimed, and she groaned again.

“A-four-letter-word-for-unwell…”

What had happened to her overnight? She _had_ been eating, but maybe it was food poisoning? No, it couldn’t be.

“Please come out from there.” Jervis asked, then added, “Do you need my help?” Silence followed, but then she shook her head.

“N-No…” She slowly uncurled and pulled herself out from under the table, and Jervis stared at her.

“I-I’m fine.” She told him, rising to her feet with one hand on the table for support, “A-five-letter-word-meaning-an-apology.” Jervis frowned again. There was no way in Wonderland that she was ‘fine’.

“Don’t apologize, dear.” Jervis quickly pulled out a chair for her, “Sit, please. What happened to you?” He watched as she screwed her eyes shut as if in pain, but she obediently sat anyway.

“I’m not well.”

“You look alright. You’re not pale, at least.” Jervis pulled out a chair for himself and sat in front of her, looking at her with concern. He couldn’t check if she had a fever. She shook her head again, and held her head in her hands with another groan.

“Please Alice, tell me what’s wrong.”

“…An-eight-letter-word-for-headache…”

Jervis had to think about that one, and he frowned with a finger to his chin. Eight letters…migraine? M-I-G-R-A-I-N-E. Yes, eight letters.

“Well, I don’t think I can help, Alice dear.” Jervis remarked sadly, volume dropping considerably, “Maybe we can take your mind off things?” She jumped, looking at him with outright fear.

“Please don’t control me again!” She begged, and Jervis shook his head.

“I never intended to.” He replied simply, then crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap, “The thought that crossed my mind was polite conversation.” She stared at him for a few moments, but then propped her elbow on the arm of the chair to hold her hand to her head. Taking this as an agreement, Jervis thought over a possible topic. She needed a name, firstly.

“What do I call you?” He asked, and she groaned.

“I thought my four-letter-word-for-title was ‘Alice’.” She replied flatly, and Jervis sighed as he thought of how to get his point across.

“What do _others_ call you?” Jervis corrected himself, “Out of Wonderland, _I_ am Jervis Tetch.”

_‘”Who are_ you _?” said the Caterpillar.’_

“…Wendy.”

Jervis almost laughed despite himself. Not only an Alice, he had his own Kathryn Beaumont! Any mirth Jervis had however disappeared as he noticed tears caught in Ali-… _Wendy’s_ eyelashes, and he looked at her with concern.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, and she wiped her eyes before looking at him. She didn’t speak, and Jervis took a brief moment to examine her features. Round eyes, dark blue like a sky beginning to darken to night. A small nose, and her bridge-of-nose area was decorated in freckles. Her head was a strange shape, almost like a square-ish teardrop.

“Alice…” He wasn’t able to correct himself that time. No matter what her name was, he couldn’t see her any other way. She would _always_ be Alice. Alice shifted in her seat, and though she tried to hide it Jervis could see her rub her temple.

“How long have you had headaches?” Jervis tried to find a subject she would answer to, and to his delight she spoke, bringing her legs up to sit cross-legged.

“Three days ago.” Her voice remained flat, almost distracted, “The migraine a-seven-letter-word-for-began when I woke up.” The question was now, how long had she been awake? Did Alice wake before him, or after? Jervis leant forward slightly, and Alice quickly looked back towards the floor.

_‘Curioser and curioser.’_

“How long have you been sick?” He had the awful feeling that she had been unwell since they had met, and he hadn’t noticed.

“A week.”

His heart sank. How could he be so oblivious? Had he really become so detached from reality that he couldn’t even notice when another human being needed his attention?

“Do you need to see a doctor?” Jervis asked quickly. He didn’t want her to leave, but if it was serious he didn’t want her to fall terminally ill either. He was probably jumping to conclusions, but Alice shook her head anyway.

“No, Mr Hatter.” She replied quietly, and his expression softened.

“Jervis, please.” Jervis insisted, and Alice looked at him with confusion. Jervis thought of something, and he frowned. Maybe Alice wasn’t sick because _she_ had done something to herself.

“Were you given something?” Jervis asked, then his eyes narrowed slightly, “Was it Nygma?” If Riddler had poisoned his Alice than he swore he would-

“No…” She repeated, “…Jervis.” He beamed. She didn’t realise that just saying his _name_ filled him with happiness. Jervis realised that she was holding her head in her hands and his concern returned.

“Alice…” Jervis glanced at her chair, then back to her, “I can show you where the sofa is. It’s far better for sleeping.” Alice lifted her head to look at Jervis, and she blinked.

“I don’t a-four-letter-word-for-require-“

“I _insist_.” Jervis jumped up from his seat and held out a hand, “I will not have my Alice uncomfortable in her own home!” Alice looked down at the floor, and he realised that offering to take her hand was probably not the best thing he could have done. Jervis pulled back his hand and glanced away sheepishly for the briefest of moments.

“Follow me.” He turned and started walking, and when he reached the doorway he heard a chair scrape back, and Alice quickly hurried to join him.

~O~

_“Hello?”_

“Good morning Jervis.”

There was a cautious silence that followed, but Jonathan waited patiently.

_“Jonathan? What do you want?”_

“Nothing of importance.” He had to choose his words carefully to avoid any suspicion, “I wanted to see how you were, considering you _ordered_ us out after losing your ‘precious Alice’.” As Crane had expected, Tetch’s voice changed from wary to cheerful almost immediately.

_“Oh she didn’t leave, Jonathan. She was just hiding. But I found her!”_

Jonathan nodded. It was quite unlike The Hatter to let whatever helpless blonde-haired woman he had named ‘Alice’ just run away without sending someone after her. He had probably dragged her back to her place at the table himself.

“And how is she?” Jonathan questioned, leaning forward in his chair, ‘Healthy, I presume?” Another silence, this one substantially longer than the last.

_“…She’s healthy. Why?”_

Clearly, he was pushing how friendly he could be with what his otherwise _unfriendly_ personality had already established. He was walking a fine line now.

“Because usually after losing an Alice you sulk for a few days then kidnap several people to take part in your over-obsessive fantasies.” That sounded much more like himself, and it clearly worked because Jervis picked up the conversation like the bait on a hook.

_“I’m sorry for having to force you out, Crane. And Edward as well. I didn’t feel like having a tea party when I thought Alice had left me again.”_ Once again the serious tone changed to merriment in an instant, _“But now she doesn’t even want to leave, and she wears the dress just like she should. Isn’t that wonderful?”_ Crane frowned impassively and returned to his original position in his seat. Tetch had already forgotten that Alice did what he said because she was under his control. If he wanted her to stay, she would stay. If he wanted her to wear a dress, she would wear the dress and say her name was whatever he told her it was.

“Jervis…” _Now_ his plan would be put into action, “How much do you really know about this girl?”

_“I don’t think I understand what you mean. She’s Alice. She has a cat named Dinah-“_

“Tetch.” Jonathan cut him off sharply, sitting up and almost chastising the phone, “Do you know what she was doing in _Gotham_? For all you know, she could be a homicidal maniac.”

_“…Look who’s talking.”_ The giggling that came with the reply made the former-professor want to strangle whatever helpless sap he could find on the street. Crane pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, exhaling in irritation.

“Did you ever consider that _maybe_ , just _maybe_ , she might not be as harmless as you think?” He had to speak slowly, like explaining to a child.

_“You’re not making a great deal of sense.”_

“Oh aren’t I? Just whom exactly do you have in your home, Tetch? How can you be certain that when Riddler abducted her from the street, she didn’t have a decaying corpse waiting in her home?” Crane smirked, involuntarily leaning forward again as he wormed his way inside Tetch’s mind. The silence that followed was short, sharp, and only more assuring to The Scarecrow.

_“Don’t talk nonsense, Jonathan. My Alice would never hurt me.”_

“You are the one who speaks in nonsense, Jervis, not me.” Jonathan’s smirk widened to a malicious grin, “And _you_ are the one who is assuming Alice would hurt you.”

_“You’re lying.”_

Jonathan frowned. Jervis didn’t believe him?

“I’m not.”

_“You must be. You hate Alice as much Edward does, don’t you?! That’s why you think she’s done something horrid!”_

This was _not_ what Jonathan had wanted to be the outcome of his suggestions. He rose to his feet, thinking carefully.

“I do _not_ hate her.” Jonathan replied sternly, “Look for Dr Car-“ The sharp click told him that Tetch had hung up. Jonathan exhaled through his nose, but after a moment he smirked again. The seed had been planted. From here Jervis’s doubt would only grow, and no matter how much time he spent with Dewhurst there would always be the uncertainty and the _fear_ in the back of his mind. He would question her past, what she had done, _why_ she wore the costume and spoke in crossword clues. It was only a matter of time.

And to think The Scarecrow had done all this while Nygma was still locked away with his computers contemplating the ‘what ifs’ and all of the possible contingencies for the numerous plans he was concocting.


	7. One Week, One Day

_“Get in there!”_

_Wendy let out a choked cry as the door was slammed shut and locked behind her. Wendy peered through the gaps between the shutter-like design of the cupboard door, but she quickly huddled in the corner, knees to her chin with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed, the light from the outside bedroom barely enough to come through the shutters._

_What had she done? What was she being punished for? She didn’t mean to upset her…_

_Wendy continued to sob. This was her third time inside the cupboard. The first time had been the scariest, not knowing why or how long she would be trapped._

_Wendy wiped away her tears, then looked upwards at the roof of the cupboard as if something might save her._

_The first time had been two hours…the second time was five…how long would it be this time?_

_Wendy blinked, and her eyes narrowed slightly as they tried to focus. That wasn’t the cupboard roof…it was the shelf. Her wardrobe didn’t have it, but she remembered that her parents both used to hide things up on the shelf she couldn’t reach. Christmas presents, birthday presents…mostly presents._

_Pulling herself up so she was standing, slightly hunched, Wendy searched the edges of the shelf. It had always been wobbly, Daddy said…_

_Something creaked beneath her fingers, and Wendy’s eyes widened slightly before she pushed against it. She didn’t know why she did, but the next thing she knew the side of the shelf had collapsed and things were falling on top of her._

_Now back on the floor, Wendy shook her head and coughed against the dust before looking at the things around her. Boxes with legal documents, extra stationery, photos from trips…_

_Wendy looked sadly at the photo in her hand, feeling like she was about to cry again. Daddy…_

_She returned the photo to the box, but then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Sorting through the mess and making an even bigger one in the process, Wendy pulled out the thick and heavy book with both hands, hoisting it onto her lap. A dictionary. Wendy frowned in confusion as she opened the front cover, and on the inside she could see ‘G. Dewhurst’ was written in black ink._

_Wendy smiled._

_So_ that _was how he was so good at crossword puzzles!_

_Wendy heard a noise and her head whipped up to the shutters, but no one came in. After a few minutes and she was_ certain _she was still trapped, Wendy looked back down at the dictionary._

_She had nothing better to do, and who knew how long she would be in the cupboard…_

_Wendy flicked to the first page, settling back into her corner as she began to read…_

**END OF FLASHBACK**

The good news was, her shudders had stopped. The bad news…

Wendy groaned.

…That wasn’t really good news.

The Mad Hatter (or _Jervis_ , as he had insisted she call him) hadn’t been lying about his four-letter-word-for-couch. It was more comfortable than a wooden chair, which was fortunate because ever since she had first laid down on it Wendy hadn’t moved. Her migraine felt like a tumour, eleven-letter-word-for-relentless in pain and making her feel nauseous. She literally felt _sick_.

Wendy groaned again, curled in a ball with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, face buried in the back of the sofa and the cushions.

Her memories were becoming less a-five-letter-word-for-short now, whole parts of her life coming back to her that she just wanted to forget. It was only a matter of time until-

Wendy felt a finger gingerly tap her shoulder, and she groaned in response.

“Alice, you haven’t eaten since yesterday…”

Wendy shook her head, an-eleven-letter-word-for-instantly regretting it.

“ _Please_ Alice, I’m worried.”

After a moment, Wendy slowly turned herself over so she was facing him. Jervis smiled down at her, but she could see the seven-letter-word-for-worry in his eyes. She had been seeing that look more and more.

“I-I’m fine, Jervis.” Wendy replied quietly, but his expression only worsened.

“Please don’t lie.” Jervis shook his head sadly, and Wendy frowned.

“I’m not hungry.” She corrected herself. If she a-three-letter-word-for-consumed anything, Wendy was sure she would vomit. Even worse, words were starting to cross her vision again.

“Alice, you have to eat _something_.” Jervis insisted, crossing his arms, and Wendy grimaced.

“I’m not hungry.” Wendy an-eight-letter-word-for-restated, and she was about to roll back over when Jervis moved forward, and she froze.

“Alice, I don’t want you to starve.” Jervis said sternly, before he noticed Wendy’s expression and his eyes softened, “Could you please sit up for me?” Wendy stared at Jervis for a few seven-letter-word-for-minutes, unsure if she actually _could_ sit up and if it would be worth refusing again if it made the Hatter angry. Eventually deciding to try, Wendy held a hand to her head as she a-ten-letter-word-for-carefully brought herself up to a sitting position. Pain immediately stabbed at her temples, and Wendy held her head in her hands with a grimace, waiting to swallow whatever decided to come up her throat.

“Thank you.” Jervis gave a small smile, but that quickly faded as he looked at her, “Now, is there _anything_ you would be able to eat?” Wendy shook her head, and Jervis frowned.

“Not even bread and butter?” Again Wendy shook her head.

“A-ten-letter-word-for-particularly bread and butter.” Wendy replied, and Jervis held a finger to his chin in thought.

“There must be _something_.” Jervis thought aloud, and Wendy glanced at him.

“I just need to rest.” Wendy lied, and she saw Jervis eight-letter-word-for-contemplate whether she was telling the truth. But after a moment, he nodded, and Wendy sighed before Jervis suddenly sat down on the other side of the sofa.

“You know, Alice, you don’t need to hide things from me.”

Wendy quickly brought her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, looking at Jervis with the wide, innocent eyes of a frightened deer.

“You know you can tell me anything.” Jervis continued, looking at Wendy reassuringly, and he gestured to himself, “You can trust me.” Wendy didn’t reply, up against the arm at her four-letter-word-for-half of the sofa as if Jervis might attack her at any moment. He noticed this, and sighed.

“Here,” Jervis held out his hand, “Give me your hand.” Wendy frowned slightly as she slowly lifted her hand, placing it on top of Jervis’s like she had a few days ago. Jervis smiled. She was already growing more comfortable with physical contact.

“Alright…I’m going to try something.” Jervis looked Alice in the eye with a kind expression that showed no harmful intent whatsoever, “I’m simply going to close my fingers over your hand, understand? Nothing else.” Wendy’s eyes widened and she glanced down at her hand, fear evident as she looked back at Jervis. This man was a criminal that took control of whoever he wanted and a-six-letter-word-for-compelled them to do whatever he pleased.

“I promise I will do nothing else.” Jervis repeated, then added gently, “Just trust me Alice.” Wendy gulped, glancing at Jervis with uncertainty. She was also a criminal, and unlike Jervis…

_“No! Oh my god…no, please, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”_

She was a killer.

Wendy gave a small nod, and Jervis gave her a reassuring smile before turning his attention to the task at hand. He had seen plenty of psychiatric doctors, and group therapy sessions had taught him that overcoming trauma took small steps and for the person in question to be as comfortable as possible.

“Okay, I can either close all fingers at once, or one at a time.” Jervis told her, “Which would you prefer?” Wendy tried to ignore her eight-letter-word-for-headache and the nauseous feeling in her stomach as her eyes stayed on her hand and Jervis’s.

“A-All.” Wendy stammered, and Jervis nodded slowly. Her eyes never left her hand as he slowly began to close his fingers.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” Jervis repeated the reassuring words in hopes that she wouldn’t panic, but she could see her focus flicker as if something was flashing across the surface of her mind. As each gloved finger began to make contact, Jervis noticed that Alice seemed to be holding her breath.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Alice glanced at Jervis again before looking at her hand, now enclosed in Jervis’s. Like before, Jervis waited for her reaction. The silence that followed did not help his nerves.

“…See?” Jervis broke the silence, and Alice exhaled before nodding. Wendy had to remind herself repeatedly that Jervis was not going to try anything other than holding her hand. The fact that he was wearing gloves was helpful, since that letterman jacket wearing pig hadn’t been wearing gloves when he had…

Wendy quickly took her hand back, and Jervis looked at her with surprised disappointment. The experience had been extremely short-lived, but he could understand her reluctance.

“Are you alright?” Jervis asked with slight worry, and he was relieved when she nodded.

“I-I’m fine, thank you.” Alice replied quietly, and Jervis smiled. How could Crane think that his Alice could do something wrong? She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Obviously Scarecrow had just been trying to get inside his head, like usual.

“Jervis…?”

“Yes, Alice dear?” Jervis asked sweetly, still smiling.

“…C-could I please have a glass of water?”

Jervis grinned and jumped up from the sofa, immediately darting off to fulfil Alice’s request. There was no way that Alice could have ever done anything horrid, other than hide from him for so long. Crane had no idea what he was talking about. Wherever Edward had found Alice, she was now back where she belonged.

Jervis made a note to thank The Riddler later.


	8. One Week, Three Days

“Alice, remember, you don’t have to look at me…”

Wendy gulped, gaze a-ten-letter-word-for-fluttering between Jervis and her hands on top of his. She and Jervis were sitting on the sofa, facing each other.

“It’s just like before, I’m simply going to close my fingers over your hands.” Jervis eight-letter-word-for-nudged helpfully, “I won’t do anything else, alright?” Wendy nodded, fixing her gaze on her hands as Jervis did what he had two days ago, but with both of her hands instead of one. She tried to focus on his gloves, a-ten-letter-word-for-dividing it from her past memories…

_“Oh come on you little slut, we both know you want this…”_

Wendy blinked back tears as Jervis’s fingers began to close, and she glanced at his face for a split-second before looking back down. Her eight-letter-word-for-headache still throbbed unbearably, but she was trying to ignore it as best she could.

“Alice?” Jervis leant forward slightly as he noticed Wendy’s wavering focus, looking at her with concern, “Are you alright?” Wendy looked at Jervis again, and she gulped again as she nodded.

“I’m fine.” She a-seven-letter-word-for-answered, and Jervis glanced down at his hands before smiling slightly.

“Alice…”

Wendy followed his gaze, and she blinked as she saw that he was now holding her hands, completely. Her five-letter-word-for-break in concentration meant that she hadn’t even been focusing on Jervis or what he had been doing.

“You did it Alice!” Jervis smiled wide, and Wendy glanced between him and her hands before giving a small smile.

“I did?” Jervis nodded and Wendy’s smile a-seven-letter-word-for-broadened as she took away her hands and rose from the couch with excitement, “Jervis, thank you!” Jervis grinned as he too rose from the couch, looking at Wendy lovingly. She was becoming more and more comfortable around him, and more comfortable with the idea of his help in overcoming what had happened to her.

“It was the least I could d-“

_RING RING._

Jervis and Wendy both a-five-letter-word-for-rotated to the phone resting on the table next to the sofa, the loud ringing cutting through their jubilation. Jervis raised an eyebrow. Who could possibly be calling?

“One moment, Alice.” Jervis held up a finger politely before moving towards the table, picking up the phone. It couldn’t be Jonathan _again_ could it?

“Hello?”

_“Jervis, my good man! How are you?”_

Jervis immediately put his hand over the receiver, frowning as he glanced at Alice with mild concern.

“Hello Edward. I’m fine, thank you.” The suspicion in his tone was evident, but the man with an open execration towards his Alice didn’t seem to notice.

_“Good…”_

Wendy looked at Jervis with confusion, but sat down on the four-letter-word-for-couch and waited for him to finish talking with whoever this ‘Edward’ person was.

“What do you want, Edward?” Jervis questioned, and he heard Nygma chuckle on the other end of the line.

_“No need to be so_ hostile _, Jervis. I just wanted to make sure that nothing dangerous had found you. You know, the Bat…his irritating sidekick…a dangerous killer.”_

Jervis’s frown deepened. There was too much emphasis on that last option.

“I am perfectly fine, Edward. I’ve managed to remain hidden in the week since your visit.” Jervis was reminded of something and he brightened if only slightly, “I must thank you as well. Without you, I would never have been reunited with my darling Alice.”

_“Of course…”_

Jervis didn’t catch that Edward had spoken through clenched teeth.

“I hope that I have the opportunity to thank you properly.” Jervis added, and then chuckled, “But you needn’t worry. Nothing dangerous has found me.”

_“That’s what_ you _think.”_

Jervis stopped, his smile slowly fading. He turned briefly to the sofa, where Alice was sitting patiently. She looked up at him, and he saw her expression change to one of confusion before he turned back around.

“What are you insinuating Edward?” Jervis tried not to say ‘Nygma’ or ‘Riddler’ in case his Alice panicked. Knowing that he was just a phone call away would no doubt be unsettling.

_“I am not insinuating anything. I am merely telling you that your little Crossword isn’t as harmless as you think.”_ Riddler’s reply held his usual smug tone, further confusing the hatter as he tried to wrap his head around what he was implying.

“I don’t understand. Alice would never-“

_“Of course you don’t understand. You’ve been falling into those delusions of yours for far too long Tetch. You can’t even see a danger to your health when it’s right under your nose…”_

Jervis’s grip on the phone tightened, his frown deepening into a scowl as he stared straight ahead.

“Stay _away_ from Alice.” He warned, voice almost a growl.

_“I am not the one threatening you, Jervis! Why do you think she wears a costume, huh?! That isn’t exactly a sign of harmlessness!”_ The smugness was gone, replaced by irritated shouting.

Jervis was nearing the same sort of mood.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

_“Of course I-“_

“Edward.” Jervis cut him off sharply, “I am perfectly safe, and I do not appreciate your accusations. Alice would never hurt anyone!” Jervis was so focused on his conversation that he didn’t see ‘Alice’ behind him, arms wrapped around her legs as she blinked back tears.

_“Do you really believe that Jervis?”_ The shouting had returned to its original volume.

“Yes.” Jervis answered immediately, and there was a short silence that followed.

_“…I see. Well then tell me Jervis, what has many forms of delivery, yet only one result, and your little doll_ stinks _of it?”_

Jervis didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he hung up. Turning around, he barely caught Alice wiping her eyes before looking at him. Jervis sighed, his anger melting away as he returned the phone to its stand.

“Alice, I will be back in a moment.” He informed her, and then walked stiffly out of the room, leaving Alice by herself.

Wendy watched Jervis leave, frowning slightly in a-nine-letter-word-for-bewilderment, before she rubbed her temples as her migraine decided to remind her of its existence.

Without warning, the phone began to ring again.

Wendy lifted her head, frowning again as she looked at the phone. When it didn’t stop, she six-letter-word-for-glanced at the doorway Jervis had left through. Should she answer it? Jervis didn’t seem to be coming back…

Wendy looked back to the phone, and then an-eleven-letter-word-for-hesitantly picked it up and held it to her ear.

“H-Hello…?”

_“Why hello…is this who I think it is?”_

She recognised that voice anywhere, and Wendy recoiled as if the man were standing in front of her.

“Oh no…”

_“Oh yes.”_ The reply was followed by a chuckle, but then all humour disappeared completely, _“And don’t think you’re safe,_ Crossword _. I brought you to Tetch for a reason, and there is only_ one _puzzle master in Gotham.”_ Wendy’s eyes widened with a-six-letter-word-for-fear as she fell back onto the sofa, free hand gripping the seat cushion tightly.

“M-Mr Riddler I-“

_“Save it.”_ The snap silenced her immediately, _“When I’m through with you, Crossword, you’ll wish you had never put on a mask.”_ Wendy once again tried to four-letter-word-for-halt her tears from falling. Her fear only added to the words and memories crossing her vision.

_“Oh, and I hope Jervis has done something horrible to you.”_

She could hear his smirk through the phone.

_“Of course, knowing you…”_

He didn’t know her at _all_ , what could-

_“You’ve probably done something to_ him.”

The line went dead, and Wendy could feel her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes grew as much as they possibly could. The phone slipped from her fingers like it was something poisonous as she scrambled backwards, both hands over her mouth in fearful horror.

No, no she wouldn’t, she _couldn’t_! She would never hurt anyone, let alone Jervis, she would never hurt anyone _again_ …

“No. No no no no _no_!” The word of dread tumbled repeatedly from her mouth as she felt it build, the horrible, torturous oath of despair. Wendy continued to shake her head, tears filling her eyes as she drew almost up onto the arm of the sofa. Memories, flashbacks, words of all kinds flickered like someone hastily flickering through TV channels.

She felt it come up through her chest, tearing through her heart and then up to her throat, the only thing keeping it at bay being her repeated cries of ‘no’.

“I can’t…I _can’t_ …”

_The accused is charged with fraud, breaking-and-entering, and involuntary manslaughter. How does the defendant plead?_

_…Guilty, your honour._

She would never hurt anyone again. _Never_. She had never meant for this to happen…she just…she just wanted…

_The jury finds the accused not guilty by reason of insanity…_

Wendy felt herself sink as her legs lost feeling, her arms falling to hold herself as she was unable to hold it back any longer.

“N-nine down, three across…” The words were barely above a whisper, and Wendy felt herself begin to sob as once again, everything became far away and distant.

_Miss Dewhurst, you are hereby sentenced to rehabilitation…at Arkham Asylum._


	9. One Week, Four Days

She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t slept. Whenever Jervis came back into the room she curled in a ball on the sofa and pretended to be asleep.

_Nine down, three across. Nine down, three across._

The sky had gone a-four-letter-word-for-black a long time ago, and by now Jervis must have decided to go to bed.

_Nine down, three across. Nine down, three across._

Wendy remained curled up on the sofa, arms wrapped around herself and eyes screwed shut tightly against her tears. She was remembering too much, too many memories that she never wanted to see again pushing to the front of her mind. Her migraine had grown to the point where it felt like it was trying to tear her skull apart.

_Nine down, three across._

She _needed_ her medication.

Wendy hugged herself tightly, trying to stop the sob that ten-letter-word-for-menaced to escape her throat.

But where was she supposed to find it? _How_ was she supposed to find it? She couldn’t while she was here, with The Mad Hatter.

_Nine down, three across._

She was only going to get worse, and the two week marker was so a-five-letter-word-for-near that she felt like she was about to panic. Wendy’s eyes slowly opened, and she forced herself up to a sitting position.

She had to leave.

_Nine down, three across._

Wendy grimaced as she pulled herself from the sofa, standing on weak legs. If she could sneak out while the Hatter was still asleep, she would be able to four-letter-word-for-locate more medication. Wendy looked around the room, waiting for her eyes to adjust before walking out as quietly as possible. If she wanted to leave, first she would have to find the key.

_Nine down, three across._

She had eight-letter-word-for-looked for the key for over a day, but she would look again if she had to. Wendy walked down the hallway silently, and she came to the only room she hadn’t entered in the entire time she had been with Jervis. Wendy stood in front of the door, hesitating.

She had searched every other room in the building…

Wendy carefully six-letter-word-for-rotated the doorknob, cautious in case the door creaked. Jervis was fast asleep in the bed, blankets pulled up to his chin and snoring. Loudly. Wendy gave a small smile before eight-letter-word-for-noticing a glass table sitting in the corner. Resting on the table was a key, and beside it a bottle labelled ‘Drink Me’.

Of course.

_Nine down, three across._

Wendy glanced at the still-sleeping Jervis before an-eight-letter-word-for-sneaking to the glass table, picking up the key. Examining it, Wendy hoped that it was the right one. She then noticed that at the base of the table, her black and white costume was lying neatly folded, the mask on top and a-seven-letter-word-for-gazing at her. Wendy blinked before picking up the pile, and she once again glanced at Jervis. Sneaking back out of the room and closing the door behind her, she six-letter-word-for-rushed through the hallway and into the room where the tea party was _still_ prepared. Wendy glanced at the clothing in her hands, then at the doorway, and then at the table before darting behind it.

_Nine down, three across._

Trying to shut everything out as she hid behind one of the chairs, Wendy quickly changed from her Alice costume to her regular six-letter-word-for-attire, using the coping mechanisms she had been taught by doctors.

_“Wait, what are you doing?! Stop!”_

_“Oh come on doll, what’s the matter?”_

Wendy paused, halfway through pulling on her shoes. After a moment, she an-eight-letter-word-for-completed changing, not bothering with her jacket and mask. Wendy held them tightly as she quickly went to the front door. She took a deep breath before sliding the key into the lock, and to her delight it fit. Wendy turned the key before grabbing the doorknob-

“Alice?”

Wendy froze, grip tightening on the clothing in her other hand. She did nothing for a six-letter-word-for-minute, then exhaled before turning around slowly. Jervis was standing in the doorway, looking somewhat dishevelled, but with a confused and _hurt_ look on his face. Wendy looked down at the floor, a-seven-letter-word-for-guilty, with her arms behind her back.

_Nine down, three across._

“Alice, what are you doing?” Jervis asked, stepping forward as he kept his saddened gaze on her, “I-I thought you liked it here, why are you trying to-“

“Jervis, I can’t, I can’t do this anymore!” Wendy exclaimed, tears in her eyes. They ran down her cheeks as she five-letter-word-for-walked towards him.

“I’m _sick_ , Jervis I’m getting more six-letter-word-for-ill every second!” Wendy sobbed, _pleading_ with her hands in a similar gesture, “If I don’t get more medication soon I don’t know what will happen…” Jervis said nothing, but he was still looking at her like a wounded puppy. Wendy stopped moving, holding her head in her hands for a moment.

“Nine down, three across…” She murmured, almost inaudibly, before looking back at Jervis.

“I can’t _live_ here while I’m sick.” Wendy continued, still crying, “If I don’t a-five-letter-word-for-depart…I don’t…I don’t know if you’ll be safe.” Jervis’s expression changed to one of surprise, blinking, and Wendy stepped towards him.

“I’ll come back.” She pleaded, “I promise I’ll come back but _please_ Jervis, just let me leave.” Wendy an-eight-letter-word-for-truthfully wasn’t sure if she really would or wouldn’t come back, but she was desperate for medicine, desperate to be normal again.

_Nine down, three across._

Jervis still said nothing, looking between her and the floor. He had a deep-set frown on his face, and Wendy had to admit that he looked seven-letter-word-for-odd without a hat on top of his sandy blonde hair.

“…You promise you’ll come back?” Jervis asked quietly, and Wendy nodded. Jervis reached out and a-six-letter-word-for-softly took her hand, causing her to almost jump back in surprise. After a moment though, she relaxed, the therapy he been giving her helping her through the action.

“Promise me.” Jervis locked eyes with Wendy, and she could see that they were still hurt, mostly sad, but still hurt. Wendy gulped as she looked at her hand in Jervis’s, but then looked him in the eye.

“I promise.”

After what seemed like an-eight-letter-word-meaning-all-time, Jervis slowly released her hand and took a step back, and Wendy smiled widely with relief.

“Thank you Jervis, thank you so much.” Wendy hurried for the door, darting through it with such ardency that she forgot to look back.

**FLASHBACK**

_Wendy Dewhurst shut the front door quietly behind her, backpack still on her shoulders with the newspaper from the morning. It hadn’t been collected from the front yard, like usual, and hopefully she would be able to have some time on the puzzle pages before starting her homework._

_“Katty?” The voice interrupted Wendy’s thoughts, and she gave a silent sigh before walking cautiously towards the living room. Her middle name was Katherine, not her first, but her mother seemed to forget that sometimes._

_“Yes Mom, I’m home.” Wendy stepped into the room, still a safe distance away from the armchair facing the TV. Her mother held a bottle in one hand, and her eyes were focused on nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, which was why Wendy was being cautious._

_“Where were you?” Her mother asked, taking another swig._

_“I walked straight home.” Wendy replied. She waited silently, hands clasped together as her mother examined the bottle in her hand like she was interested in what was printed on the label. After a moment, her mother’s arm fell back to the arm of the chair._

_“I saw you walking with someone. Some…_ boy _.”_

_Wendy frowned slightly, confused._

_“No…” She replied, but then remembered. On the way home she had walked beside a boy around her own age. No reason, only because they had a similar stride. They hadn’t walked together for long, either, only a few houses._

_Wendy stopped as her mother rose from the armchair, turning around to face her. Her mother’s hair was dishevelled, half of it fallen out of its ponytail and clinging to her face._

_“You’re lying. You like each other, don’t you?” She asked flatly, and Wendy’s frown deepened as she shook her head again._

_“No, I don’t.”_

_“Liar!” Her mother snapped, pointing the bottle at her accusingly. Wendy instinctively stepped back, causing her mother’s eyes to narrow with suspicion._

_“You can’t hide things from me, Katty. I’m your_ mother _.” Her voice was sharp, almost venomous, “You think I don’t know if you have a crush on someone?!” Wendy’s grip tightened, tensing slightly as she looked at her mother timidly. One wrong response was all it would take. Her mother had never been the same since…_

_“I don’t have a crush on anyone, Mom.” Wendy replied._

_“Liar!” Her mother shouted, louder this time, and jabbed the almost empty bottle in Wendy’s direction, “You’re going to find some boy to run off with and leave me like your father did!” Wendy shrank back, but her mother stalked towards her, free hand clenching into a fist._

_“You little whore, you’re going to leave me all by myself! Completely alone!”_

_“N-No!” Wendy exclaimed feebly. The bottle connected with her head sharply, shattering into pieces as she fell to the ground. Wendy sobbed, the back of her head feeling sickeningly warm as her mother walked away from her._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Wendy opened the door of her old house, pushing against it. Because of all the miscellaneous possessions and seven-letter-word-for-items against it and in the way, she had to push her whole body weight against it so it would open. Grunting from the effort, Wendy looked around the room and sighed. Nothing was where it was an-eight-letter-word-for-meant to be, the whole house torn apart from her mad search for more medication.

_Nine down, three across._

Wendy leant back against the door, eyes closed. She would see how much money she could find in the house, and then see if that would be enough. If not…she could think about that later. She had since put back on her jacket, the mask stuffed inside the pocket. Wendy seven-letter-word-for-moved away from the door, passing the living room on her way to the stairs. The armchair remained upright and facing the TV, the one item she hadn’t wanted to touch. Darting quickly up the stairs, Wendy passed a-seven-letter-word-for-various other rooms on the way to her own near the end of the hall.

“Nine down, three across…” Wendy muttered, and she frowned as she opened the door. She fought the urge to cry as she entered her bedroom, even more a-seven-letter-word-for-ruined than the rest of the house with drawers torn out and overturned. Wendy moved a large book from the floor and picked up her wallet, checking inside. Her face fell as she counted the amount, barely half of what she needed. An-eight-letter-word-for-releasing her wallet, Wendy manoeuvred and stumbled through the mess littering her bedroom floor. She rubbed her temples before collapsing onto her bed, covered with her extensive collection of beloved stuffed animals.

“Nine down, three across…” Wendy sighed, staring up at the ceiling. She thought back to her promise to Jervis. Was she really going to go back? She _had_ been held captive, after all, with no real six-letter-for-vote when it came to staying or not. But…what had Jervis done to her, really? He had been kind, understanding…after being an-eight-letter-word-for-obstinate and unrelenting. Wendy groaned before sitting up. A Dewhurst never went back on their word. A promise was a promise.

_Nine down, three across._

Wendy held her head in her hands. First she would find more medication, and _then_ she would-

_DING DONG_

Wendy frowned, raising her head. Did someone ring the doorbell? No, it was a-ten-letter-word-for-inconceivable. Wendy rose from the bed, manoeuvring back out of her room and back downstairs. Was it the landlord? She would have to find an excuse, _again_. Say that her mother was at work or out with friends.

_Nine down, three across._

Wendy walked nine-letter-word-for-cautiously towards the front door, both unsure of who it could be and trying not to trip over anything. Grabbing the doorhandle, Wendy hesitated. Who would come to an ‘empty’ house?

“H-Hello?” Wendy stammered as she opened the door. She was immediately grabbed, and Wendy struggled frantically, letting out a terrified shriek as a cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth. She smelled something sweet, and then her eyes rolled back as everything went dark.


	10. Help Me, Please

Wendy’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and she groaned. Her eyes then widened as she a-ten-letter-word-for-recalled what had happened, and she looked at her surroundings frantically. She was in a small, dark room, without anything except her, a set of stairs and a wooden table in the corner holding several needles. Wendy felt the panic well in her chest as she five-letter-word-for-attempted to stand, and rope bit into her wrists and ankles.

_Nine down, three across._

Wendy’s panic was joined by terror as she pulled at the rope binding her to a chair, trying desperately to break free.

“N-No! What’s going on?!” Wendy cried to the eight-letter-word-for-vacantness around her. A door opened at the top of the stairs, spilling new light into the room, and Wendy’s head shot up, tears in her eyes. The Scarecrow slowly closed the door behind him, once again leaving the room in almost an-eight-letter-word-for-full darkness.

“L-Let me go, please!” Wendy pleaded, still struggling against the rope, but Scarecrow remained silent as he descended the staircase. She could feel his eyes examining her, like some sort of rodent in a laboratory.

“What do you want?” Wendy sobbed. Her jacket, mask and gloves were gone. Scarecrow walked towards her, and Wendy an-eight-letter-word-meaning-shrank-back, causing him to chuckle.

“Hello, Miss Dewhurst.” He gave a smile that was in no way friendly, “You’re finally awake.” Wendy shook her head, tears running down her face as Scarecrow stood in front of her.

_Nine down, three across._

“Why did you kidnap me?” Wendy ten-letter-word-for-asked, and Scarecrow gestured nonchalantly to the stairs.

“Upstairs, I currently have a green-clad nuisance practically _dancing_ with joy,” Scarecrow moved towards the table in the corner, stopping only to glance back over his shoulder, “All because he was able to capture you.”

_Nine down, three across. Nine down, three across._

Wendy’s fists clenched a-seven-letter-word-for-pointlessly, but immediately unclenched again. Her head lowered, eyes screwing shut as if to block out everything around her.

“I-I never…a-five-letter-word-for-intended to-“

“I know you didn’t.” Scarecrow cut her off, picking up a syringe and examining it in the slim light, “Riddler believes that you chose your theme voluntarily, perhaps in order to spite someone, maybe even him. To steal his title as the so-called ‘Prince of Puzzles’.” Wendy shook her head, tears once again filling her eyes. That wasn’t the six-letter-word-for-motive, it would never be the reason…

Even though her eyes were closed, Wendy could still hear Scarecrow’s footsteps as they moved back towards her. He held the syringe at the ready, and a malicious smile curled his lips as he grabbed Wendy’s chin, forcing her head up to look at him.

“But we know _better_ , don’t we?”

Wendy six-letter-word-for-wrenched her head from Scarecrow’s grip, unable to curl into a ball like she usually did because of the rope. She once again struggled, but her attempts were weaker than before.

“D-Don’t touch me.” She said feebly, and Scarecrow chuckled before moving around the chair. Wendy a-five-letter-word-for-attempted to turn her head, and her eyes widened as she realised that he was behind her.

“You see, after a brief observation at Arkham Asylum, I became intrigued by your ‘condition’.” Wendy kicked her legs as best she could as Scarecrow placed his hand on her shoulder, “What drives a person to speak like a crossword puzzle? How could they memorize all of those words, those synonyms? What past trauma could make them like this?” Wendy thrashed wildly, still seven-letter-word-for-crying as Scarecrow’s hand gripped her shoulder tightly.

“Stop! Please!” Wendy begged, echoing the words she had spoken. All she could feel were _his_ hands, trapping her as she cried for help.

Scarecrow noted the reaction, and then stepped around the chair again. He sharply grabbed Wendy’s forearm, holding it still on the arm of the chair with an almost vice-like hold.

“What nightmares torture them in the darkness?” Scarecrow hissed. Wendy stopped thrashing, petrified with her eyes unbelievably wide as Scarecrow pressed the needle to her skin.

“Perhaps we should try a different prescription.” Scarecrow remarked, smiling maliciously.

“Please! Don’t do this!” Wendy sobbed, and Scarecrow stepped a-four-letter-word-for-away from her, the syringe now empty. He walked with calm, casual strides back to the table.

“I assure you, child, that this was not personal.” Scarecrow remarked, voice devoid of emotion, “The Riddler simply wants you gone, and he doesn’t care how.” Wendy stared at him, panic once again flooding her chest as she struggled again.

**_“Hello, doll.”_ **

Wendy froze, a choked five-letter-word-for-sound barely escaping her throat as she slowly turned her head to see _him_. He had that same confident look, the same hungry look in his eyes, and wearing the school letterman jacket just like that day…

“No! Stay away from me!” Wendy sobbed, the ropes again cutting into her wrists and making her skin a-three-letter-word-for-chafed. He moved towards her, grinning lasciviously.

**_“Come on, did you really think you were gonna get rid of me?”_ **

Wendy let out a cry as he leant over her, pressing his hands down on her shoulders and keeping her in place. She could feel his breath on her face, and she knew his eyes were eight-letter-word-for-sweeping over her figure.

“James! Stop!” Wendy shrieked, eyes screwing shut as she tried to move back, but once again she couldn’t.

Scarecrow stood silently, observing Dewhurst’s reaction to the toxin and revelling in her delicious terror. He smiled; he hadn’t had a subject with such a physical reaction like this in a while. She shrieked again, but a crashing noise suddenly came from upstairs. Scarecrow’s head turned sharply, and his eyes narrowed. He glanced at Wendy before reluctantly tearing himself away and stomping back up the stairs. Scarecrow closed the door with a loud bang, leaving Wendy alone with her nightmare.

“Stop!” Wendy pleaded desperately. He grabbed her by the jaw, turning her head sharply so she was forced to look at him.

**_“Come on you little slut. You didn’t stop me then, and you won’t stop me now.”_ **

One of his hands moved downward, seven-letter-word-for-slipping under her t-shirt while the other grabbed her hair and wrenched her head to the side. Wendy continued to sob, wishing she could fight back. Why, why was he doing this to her _again_?!

Wendy didn’t hear more crashing from upstairs, along with indistinguishable shouting.

**_“What’s the matter doll? We both know you want this…”_ **

“No.” Wendy whimpered helplessly, eyes once again screwed shut, “I don’t want this! I never wanted this!” She once again tried to struggle, but he just laughed and pushed the chair over. It connected with the concrete five-letter-word-for-ground with a loud, sharp bang, and Wendy shrieked again. She could see him standing over her, looking triumphant before he was on her again.

**_“You don’t fool me. Actin’ all coy, just to tease the other guys.”_ **

“No!” Wendy cried. She wasn’t like that! She wasn’t coy, she was a-five-letter-word-for-silent. A sob escaped her throat, but Wendy didn’t struggle anymore. She couldn’t. She could only give up and hope for it to be over, just like before…

There was another shout, followed by another loud crash, and then the door at the top of the stairs opened, flooding the room with light. Axe in hand, The Mad Hatter’s expression was set in a deep scowl. His eyes widened as he saw Wendy, and he ran down the stairs two at a time.

“Alice!” Hatter exclaimed, voice close to a shriek. She was shaking like a leaf, eyes closed tightly against whatever Crane’s chemical was making her see. The axe hit the floor with a metallic clang as Mad Hatter quickly righted the chair. His hand brushed her arm, and she flinched as if she had been burned.

“Alice, it’s me.” Hatter told her as he untied the rope around her wrists and ankles, “It’s me, Hatter.” He tried to pull her to her feet and she clung to him, gripping his jacket tightly as she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. The action pushed him onto his knees, and Jervis’ face fell as he looked at her.

“Oh, Wendy…” He wrapped his arms around her tightly, rocking back and forth slightly as she continued to cry, “I’m so sorry, Wendy, dearest. I’m here now…”


	11. One Week, Five Days

Jervis stood in the doorway, a worried frown on his face as he looked into the living room. Wendy was sitting against the arm of the sofa, knees almost up to her chin with her arms wrapped around her legs. She stared at nothing, a frown on her features. Whatever Crane had done to her, it had left a mark.

Jervis sighed before walking slowly towards the sofa, making sure he entered her line of sight as he did. He remembered charging into Edward and Jonathan’s hideout in pure outrage and a full state of uncontrolled madness. He had beheaded most of their bookshelves and tables, incapacitated Riddler and momentarily did the same to Scarecrow, and then rushed right to the basement.

“Ali- ahem, Wendy, darling?” Jervis stood in front of her, hoping to grab her attention. He was able to discern between the two now, no longer did he see only Alice. Wendy’s gaze shifted to him, but she said nothing, if anything holding herself tighter.

“You haven’t spoken a word since you woke up.” Jervis’s tone was cautious, but he kept it gentle as he sat down beside her on the sofa, “It’s rather concerning.” Shortly after she had finished crying back in Scarecrow's basement, she had fallen unconscious, and Jervis had to enlist some involuntary help to carry her back to his home.

Wendy looked down at the ground, and Jervis expression fell with sadness. He reached out to touch her hand, and she scrambled off the sofa as if he were a toxic poison that would burn her skin like acid.

Wendy saw the hurt look on Jervis’s face, and she once again shifted her gaze to the floor. She did feel slightly guilty, but all she could see was _him_ reaching for her, to four-letter-word-for-capture her again. She could still feel his breath on her face, could once again feel his _hands_ where she never wanted them.

“Alice, please…” Jervis’s voice was quiet, and Wendy felt like she was about to cry again.

“I…I-I’m sorry…” Wendy stepped back from him, as if _she_ were the real six-letter-word-for-threat.

_“No! Oh my god…no, please, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”_

_She looked down at her hands, seeing the blood, and then looked back to him._

Wendy held her head in her hands, tears once again falling down her face. She didn’t want this. She wanted to be _normal_ again, without her past to seven-letter-word-for-torment her.

“Wendy, I want to help you.”

“You can’t!” Wendy exclaimed, spinning around to face him, “Jervis, _no one_ has been able to help me! It’s an-eight-letter-word-for-utterly hopeless!”

“Alice, stop.” Jervis said sternly, jumping to his feet, “ _Nothing_ is hopeless. If you put your mind to it I bet you could do six impossible things before breakfast!” Wendy only shook her head, an intense migraine stabbing at her temples.

**FLASHBACK**

_“Each, determiner and pronoun, used to refer to every one of two or more people or things, regarded and identified separately.” Wendy read aloud, sitting in the corner of the wardrobe. Since she had found Daddy’s dictionary, she hadn’t hated when she was locked away as much. Always marking her page, she was able to pick up where she left off every time until she was let out again._

_“Or as an adverb, meaning to, for, or by every one of a group,” Wendy continued, a small smile on her face “Used after a noun or an amount.”_

_These were almost the only times she smiled anymore._

_Wendy heard the door outside open and her head whipped up from the dictionary. She saw her mother enter the room, and Wendy quickly hid the book under a pile of clothes that her mother never wore but never threw away. She wiped the rest of the tears from her eyes, still sitting on the floor as the wardrobe door was unlocked and opened. Her mother scowled down at her, looking tired, if anything. Wendy said nothing, waiting with an emotionless expression._

_“Go to bed.” Her mother grumbled, and without a word Wendy scrambled off the floor and darted out of her mother’s bedroom._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

“I _can’t_ Jervis, I _can’t_.” Wendy rubbed her temples, trying to get rid of her migraine. It was even worse than before, the four-letter-word-for-agony spread through her entire skull. The two week marker was so close now…

Wendy’s eyes widened and she turned to Jervis, expression betraying her fear.

“How long was I trapped there?” Wendy’s voice shook, and Jervis stepped towards her in worried concern.

“Barely even the full night, dear.” He replied, and Wendy looked at him before holding her head in her hands again, releasing a five-letter-word-for-trembling breath of relief. Two days. Today and then tomorrow…but then it would be two weeks.

“I’m sorry, Jervis.” Wendy spoke through her hands, crying once again. Jervis looked at her sympathetically, but wasn’t fully sure of how he could comfort her.

“Wendy…” Jervis stepped in front of her again, voice gentle, “You don’t have to apologize.” Wendy shook her head again, slowly taking her hands away from her face.

“Jervis, I-“

“Alice.” Jervis cut her off, but cleared his throat apologetically before continuing, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, and I would _never_ hurt you. You trust me, don’t you?” Wendy glanced at Jervis, but said nothing. Jervis tried to hide his disappointment, and instead walked back towards the sofa. He had hoped that she had finally come to trust him, but even after everything he had done she still thought-

“…I trust you, Jervis.”

Jervis froze, and then a grin slowly spread on his face as he whirled around to face her again.

“Oh Alice that’s positively wonderful!” Mad Hatter practically jumped with joy, and then quickly moved towards her, “You darling girl, I knew you would eventually!” Wendy stepped back from him, and Hatter stopped.

“Right…” Jervis cleared his throat before taking a step back, “I apologize…Wendy.” She trusted him, but she had just relived the events where that uncouth Knave had attacked her. He needed to be careful, cautious, like before.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Jervis suggested helpfully, “Maybe if you told someone, it would be easier for you.” Wendy shook her head, tears once again in her eyes.

“An-eight-letter-word-for-irremediable…”

Jervis thought about it, but he honestly wasn’t sure what word she had meant. Jervis looked at Wendy as he returned to the sofa, sitting down before patting the spot next to him.

“It won’t get better if you never say anything.” Jervis told her, and then chuckled flatly, “Believe me, I should know.” Wendy looked at him, but then looked away to the floor, crossing her arms protectively. Jervis sighed, shaking his head.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” Jervis looked at Wendy sadly. She looked back to him and he saw her eyes soften slightly. Neither of them spoke or moved for several moments, but then Wendy sighed and sat down on the other side of the sofa. Jervis smiled, but waited for her to speak of her own accord. She sat cross-legged, looking down at her hands in her lap.

“H-He thought I was quiet because I was being coy.” Wendy’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, and she didn’t look at Jervis, “But…I was more an-eight-letter-word-for-private ever since Daddy died.” Jervis’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt her.

“One day after school, he cornered me, and…” Wendy trailed off for a moment, wiping away her tears, “He kept telling me that it was what I wanted, that _I_ had always wanted him to do this to me.” She was trembling now, but Jervis was positively _shaking_ with rage, fists clenched so tight his fingernails were digging into his palms. Who would _ever_ want such a thing done to them!? He may have been accountable for many kinds of crime, but _that_ crime was unforgivable.

“Did he have a _name_?” Jervis’s voice was close to a growl, and Wendy looked at him in surprise. Jervis took a deep breath to calm himself, then gestured for her to continue.

“…Jimmy Baxter. He was on most of the school sports teams.” Wendy looked back down at her hands, nervously flexing her fingers, “I reported him to the principal, to the school, but…they didn’t want to lose their star player. They did nothing.” Wendy rubbed her temples, grimacing, and it was Jervis’s turn to be shocked.

“Well, why not go to the police?” Jervis questioned, and Wendy stopped, her expression changing to sadness and regret.

“I’ve thought about that four-letter-word-for-concept a lot.” Wendy replied sadly, and then crossed her arms, “ _Anything_ would have been better than what really happened…” Wendy stopped talking, holding her head in her hands from both her migraine and the memories. Jervis moved closer to her, and Wendy took another deep breath before taking her hands away from her face.

“After that, I seemed to…disconnect. An empty shell, I didn’t want anyone to four-letter-word-for-advance within three feet of me.” Wendy paused again, once again wiping away her tears, “It couldn’t have been more than a week after. One of Jimmy’s friends, Brandon, he came to my house. He thought I was going to…to tell someone about what James had done to me.” Jervis frowned with concern. He could see that she was struggling now, moving back against the arm of the sofa as she held her arms tightly. She continued to wipe away her tears, but they didn’t seem to end.

“I…I remember it so well.” Wendy spoke in a gasp, close to another sob, “H-He threatened me and…grabbed me and…I pushed him off a-and…he hit the counter with this sickening crack and…” Wendy broke down into nothing but incoherent sobbing, curling into a tight ball with her arms wrapped around herself.

“…I’m sorry, I-I can’t, it’s just…I can’t anymore…” Wendy sobbed. Jervis said nothing for a few moments, his own sadness and sympathy only growing, before shifting ever so slightly closer to her.

“It’s alright.” Jervis told her gently, quietly, “It wasn’t your fault.” Things were coming back to her too fast; the poor thing’s guilt was slowly killing her from inside. Wendy only continued to cry, eyes closed tight. She _wanted_ to become detached, distant from all of _this_ , but the throbbing in her head and the memories wouldn’t a-three-letter-word-for-allow her…

**FLASHBACK**

_Wendy let out a cry as Brandon crumpled to the floor, and she could feel her own panicked breathing when he didn’t get up. Wendy’s eyes were wide with fright as she dived down beside him, kneeling as she shook his shoulders desperately._

_“No! Oh my god…no, please, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” Wendy’s eyes became wet with tears as she turned his head, dread filling her stomach. She looked down at her hands, seeing the blood, and then looked back to him. She looked at the back of his head, and Wendy gasped as she held her hands to her mouth in horror, completely nauseated._

_“I’m_ so _sorry,_ please _wake up!” Wendy begged, but her pleading was futile._

_He was dead._

_Wendy’s face crumpled and her crying turned into desperate sobs as she held her head in her hands._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

“Wendy…” Jervis continued to try and reach her, only growing more concerned for her.

“A-six-letter-word-for-remorse…” Wendy’s voice was barely above a whisper, still curled in a ball, “A-six-letter-word-for-culpable…”

“Wendy.” Jervis moved towards her again, desperate to make sure that she didn’t retreat back into that empty shell, detached from everything around her. _He_ was known for being detached from reality, but when she went, she went _nowhere_.

“Wendy, look at me, please.” Jervis pleaded. Wendy stopped crying, and she slowly lifted her head barely enough to look at Jervis. He moved as close as she would allow, the closest thing he could to comforting her. He locked eyes with her, making sure she would listen.

“I understand if you don’t want to continue. But telling someone is the first step to fixing the problem.” He was parroting every psychiatrist he had ever known, but it was the best he could do, “You’re a brave girl, even out of Wonderland.” He was inwardly overjoyed to see the small smile that appeared on her face, and after a moment Wendy sniffed and wiped her eyes. She uncurled from her ball, slowly, and turned so she was sitting on the sofa properly, not against the arm of it.

“I did more, Jervis. So much more.” Wendy looked down at the floor, guilt and shame in her eyes _and_ her expression, and Jervis once again quietened so she could continue.

“What happened?” Jervis asked quietly, and Wendy sniffed again before rubbing her temples.

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I wasn’t an-eight-letter-word-for-ruminating.” Wendy explained, voice beginning to shake, “All I could think about was what James had done to me, and how no one helped me.” Jervis was beginning to have a bad feeling, even though he tried to reassure himself.

“…I broke into his house.” Wendy glanced at Jervis before looking back to the floor, “I planted Brandon’s body in James’s house, and he was arrested for murder.” Jervis eyes widened slightly, mostly from shock. He couldn’t believe that she would do such a thing. Jervis blinked, and when Wendy looked at him her face fell again.

“I know.” Wendy shook her head slightly before looking away, “Most people usually have that eight-letter-word-for-response.”

“Alice, I…” Jervis didn’t want her to cry again, but he never would have thought that she was capable of such a thing, that she would _want_ to do such a thing. Jervis glanced at the floor, and then looked at Wendy carefully.

“Did they catch you?” He asked hesitantly, and Wendy held a hand to her face as she nodded, sniffing again.

“It was a six-letter-word-for-foolish thing to do.” Wendy replied sadly, and Jervis realized something. His Alice had told him about the Knave, his friend, and her father, but…

“May I ask about your mother?” Jervis asked quietly, and Wendy shook her head, but still answered.

“She was never the same after Daddy died.” Jervis noticed that Wendy’s hand moved almost absentmindedly to near the back of her head as she spoke, “I don’t know what I did but…I must have four-letter-word-for-performed _something_ wrong…” Jervis looked at Wendy for a few moments, saying nothing until the question could contain itself no longer.

“What did she do?” He asked, but Wendy shook her head, this time more decisively before she suddenly held both hands to her face.

“I’m _not_ stupid…I’m not a tramp…” Wendy’s voice was barely a whisper, and she seemed to be speaking more to herself than him. Jervis’s face fell, feeling like he already had an answer.

“She’s gone too.” Wendy sounded like she was close to tears again as she looked at Jervis, “I don’t even really…an-eight-letter-word-for-recall what happened.” Wendy shook her head, and Jervis exhaled through his nose before reaching for her hand. He stopped just before she noticed, and he gave her a small smile.

“Thank you for telling me.” Jervis told her, and Wendy attempted to smile back but quickly held her hands to the sides of her head.

“Jervis, I’m sorry but…I really can’t anymore. I’m sorry.” Wendy quickly rose from the sofa, leaving the room as Jervis watched without a word. He frowned sympathetically, but resisted the urge to go after her. Instead, Jervis held a hand to his head as he tried to process all of what he had just been told.


End file.
